Charlotte and Casey
by WriKai
Summary: Fem!Chuck (Charlotte/Charlie, for short). Takes place during "Chuck vs The Sensei." Charlotte tries to inspire (re- enrage) Casey to beat his former Sensei, and learns afterwards that she made have made him mad, but not for the reasons she thought. Fem!Chuck/Casey!


I sat beside Sarah, feeling absolutely terrified. Casey was about to fight what I could only describe as the most badass of badass ninjas. Master Splinter had, like, nothing on this guy's moves. This was Casey's former sensei, former GOD for all I knew. This had been the man that had shown Casey everything he knew, taught him everything, and, well…

I was terrified that I was about to watch Casey die in front of us, and then have to sit there knowing I got him killed.

"Eye of the tiger, buddy!" I encouraged weakly from my forced seat.

"Shut up, Charlotte." He ordered, not even turning to look at me.

"Sorry."

I sat there, unable to hold back bits and pieces of attempted encouragement as I watched Casey get beaten to the ground. Every hit he took, I could feel it reverberating back on myself. Every new bone broken or place of skin opened, I could feel like a knife to my heart.

I didn't just want Casey to live so that we would all live, and I knew it.

I wanted Casey to live because I loved him, I knew I had for a while now, and I would break if I had to watch the strongest man I knew die now.

I almost broke when he landed at the feet of myself and Sarah, bleeding and unable to get up. "Your center is filled with conflict." Sensei badass asshole declared, his voice just screaming self-righteous knowledge. I thought about Casey, what I'd learned about him from observing and wanting to be closer.

Of course his center was filled with conflict! He had to fight the man he'd looked up to for the longest time, a man that was trying to kill him! How in the hell do you find your calm then, huh? Besides, when was Casey ever calm? That sensei was an idiot for thinking Casey had a calm center.

I loved Casey because of the amazing amounts of self-control he was able to exercise every day, be it bearing the catcalls from Jeff and Lester at the Buy More or my own idiotic tendencies. He never acted on it, only made it known. I loved the protective nature he had, the ingenious way he would work out surveillance and tactical plans and by God, if I had to watch the control he held when he worked out, just barely letting out portions of his strength to maximize his time…

Casey wasn't a calm person, and I loved him for it. Even when his lack of calm was directed at me for some reason or other.

"That's it." I muttered, an idea dawning on me. I moved over to him, leaning in close to make sure he could hear me. I was almost certain he had a concussion at this point, but I needed to hope he would make it through this. "Casey…" I muttered, putting my bound hands on his head. He stirred slightly, looking around. "Casey!" Thank God, he wasn't dead yet. "Casey, you gotta get up."

"Run for it, Charlotte." His commanding voice wasn't so commanding now.

"It's too bad, really." Sensei Douche-Splinter commented. "I was hoping my men would see better skills from a former student of mine."

That comment was what spurred me on. I knew Casey was better than him, both in fighting prowess and in just being a person. Casey was a good person, a patriotic person, a person I could trust and would rather have at my back than anyone else.

But he wasn't a calm person, and it was about damn time he stopped trying to act like one.

"Look. Look, I get how you're feeling, man. I totally get how you're feeling. You're feeling betrayed by someone that you really care about." I started, earning a glare from him.

"You're damaging my calm, Charlotte." He warned. I went on anyways.

"You've spent so much of your life- pushing people away. Lashing out with purple words and... and punches. But I know why you do it." I wasn't certain whether I wanted my next statement to be wrong or right, but I knew it had to make him mad. "You do it because you're scared."

"What?" He asked, incredulous. I could see fury beginning to build in his eyes.

"Scared." I repeated with a nod. "Scared to be known. Scared that, if we see who you really are, we'd actually care about you."

"You shut up!" He ordered, and I could feel the fire in his voice again.

"Yeah. Shut up, Charlie." Sarah warned, unaware of what I was doing. "You're making him mad."

"Underneath that extremely terrifying exterior lies a man who deeply, deeply feels. You care." I said the words accusatory, and I finally understood what the physical difference was between fury and rage. "You care about us. You care about me. Admit it. You feel all warm and mushy about me. Go ahead. Say it." I didn't question whether I was wrong, I didn't want to. I knew that it would break my heart if I did, but I also knew that the words would infuriate him more than anything else in the world, whether I was wrong or not. "You love me, John Casey!" I shouted, and for a moment I actually believed the words myself.

If there's a stronger, singular word that describes the absolute hellfire that burned in his eyes at that moment, I didn't know what it was. I'll call it Casey, because only a man like John Casey can wield that much pent up rage and fury and absolute seething hate that honestly could've killed with a single look.

"I'm going to kill you!" He threatened. I grabbed his face with one hand, stopping his moving towards me.

"Wait, wait, wait! Hold on!" I told him, and saw confusion in his eyes. "No. Not me." I turned his face so that he was looking at Sensei. "Him."

What happened next honest to God could've made me fall in love with Casey all over again (and could also have been a good indicator of some sort of messed up brain thing due to the attraction). Just watching the way he… He was himself. No more hiding behind a calm and calculated man. He was brutal, he was cold, he was calculating, he was…

He was better than Sensei Ass-Kicked.

I was so relieved when I finally saw Casey standing above his former sensei, the fire still burning in the spy's eyes, but not quite as brightly and untamed as it had been before. I watched him as FBI stormed the building, and actually smiled at the look of disbelief when thought I'd told them where we were.

In my defense, he'd been very persuasive when he'd held that bullet up.

When we got back, though, Casey didn't speak for the majority of the ride. I tried to get him to, many times, but each attempt was met with an icy gaze as he drove us home.

"Oh, before I forget," I said, giving it one last-ditch attempt. "We have a cover date in a few days. Ellie and Awesome wanted the place to themselves on Tuesday and I panicked and made up plans for us on the spot."

All that got was a grunt in response, and I let out a small sigh. "Fine. Whatever. I'll go hang out at the Buy More then. Guess I was right to bullshit you loving me in to pissing you off, then." I shook my head, walking to my door. "Good night, Casey." I muttered the words just loud enough for him to hear as I walked away.

I was maybe three feet from my door when I felt a hand like iron grab my wrist. I turned around, about to shout or scream or maybe throw a slap, when I felt a hand on my cheek and lips against mine. In an instant, the grip around my wrist turned from one of metal to one of… Softness. Delicate, as though the owner was afraid of breaking something. I stood stock still, my eyes falling shut as I felt absolutely terrified and overjoyed and unsure of how to react without destroying this wonderful moment, until Casey drew away.

"What was that?" I asked, feeling breathless as my eyes remained shut. Casey hadn't ever kissed me like that before, soft as silk and as careful as he was with his bonsai.

"A thank you." He replied, his voice marginally less gruff and… Was he just a bit breathless as well?

"No, as in was that a cover thank you or…" I opened my eyes, and saw how close he was to me. "Or…" I tried to find the right words, but couldn't. I wasn't certain how to find the right words, not with him so close and… and…

"It was a thank you." He repeated, and I could see the smallest of smirks tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Yeah, but, but…" I watched the smirk come to fruition as he pulled away, leaving me suddenly cold and just a slight unsteady.

"Good night, Charlotte." He said with a smile, turning back to his own home. I watched him walk in, dropping his bag just barely inside the door, out of view.

Then he turned, and made eye contact for just a second as I stood there, transfixed by his movements. He smirked, and closed the door behind him.

But not all the way. He left it open by maybe two inches, and I watched the door for just a little longer before I heard music begin to play from inside his home. Smooth jazz.

I could just barely hear the smooth baritones of his voice singing with it.

"Well if that's not an invitation, I don't know what is." I muttered, forcing my feet to propel me towards the door. I closed it quietly behind me, fully, and was careful to not trip and fall over his bag.

I followed his deep, rich voice to his bedroom, and saw him laying down, reading a book on Ronald Reagan and now singing in a much quieter tone.

"Took you long enough." He murmured, putting his book down to look at me. I stood in the doorway, uncertain of how to proceed.

"Was I wrong?" I finally asked, unable to hide my curiosity anymore. He stood up, as his movements as smooth as how a snake moves, much smoother than one would expect for someone as stocky as him.

"No." He answered, moving towards me slowly, calculating my moves as if I was a terrified gazelle, watching to see if I would bolt or not.

"Then why did it make you mad?"

"Because you weren't wrong." He stood in front of me now, his height looming over me, but not in an intimidating or domineering way. Just in a way that was purely him. "And because I thought that if you knew, then I must not be nearly as good at hiding my emotions as I've worked to be, which could have in turn put you in a lot more danger if anyone else were to have known."

"Oh." Casey had been mad because he'd thought he'd been compromised, that he'd put myself in even more danger by being… obvious. "Well, if it makes you any calmer," I whispered. "I only thought I pissed you off to no end."

"You do a lot more than that to me, Charlie." He answered, and damn did it do things to hear his voice, his deep, dark, rough voice, FINALLY use my nickname today.

His lips captured mine once more, one hand returning to it's spot on my cheek, and the other on my hip. His touch was soft, gentle in comparison to the calluses I could feel on his palms, his fingertips, and the light scarring I could feel under his shirt as I ran my hands up it to wrap behind his neck.


End file.
